


Never The Groom

by ReoPlusOne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReoPlusOne/pseuds/ReoPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur attends his brother's wedding as the last single one among them.</p><p>That just might change, however.  USUK.  Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never The Groom

Always the best man.  Never the groom.

With four handsome older brothers and a decidedly lifelong gay streak in him, Arthur should have expected all of this from the day he came out.  He could only wonder if women ever experienced the same unmarried-and-no-signs-of-changing-that mess.  It was one of the few times that the female gender as a whole entered his thoughts — with as many gorgeous men as there were in the city, it was easy to pretend women were legendary beasts and three unicorns putting themselves through university lived in the flat across from his.

When Rhys and Sean had gotten married, each to equally stunning women in equally expensive gowns (and Arthur hated to be _that _gay man, but he had to run his hands over the seams in reverence and shudder a little, until his brothers asked if being gay meant he was aroused by fabric) he had splurged and bought himself a brand new suit.  He quickly realized that he had too many brothers to continue the tradition without going bankrupt — so for the fourth and final time (barring remarriages, he would have no part of those just like he had no part in their mum or dad’s) he donned his pinstripe wedding suit, sighed at the mirror and left.

Several martinis later and he was slumped against the bar trying to stay barely under control.  Arthur knew he should have gone home some time before but William, the blessed budding alcoholic that he was, had paid extra for an open bar, and in doing that he accepted the drama that came with it.  And the bartender, a short but sturdy looking blond man with a ponytail and an abundance of coy looks, was earning his tips.

From across the bar, the man who had come and sat with his elbows on the counter and his hands on his scalp even before Arthur got there paused his already hour-long pityfest to glance over.

“Hey, you’re William’s brother.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.”

“Uh, Arthur, right? The gay —”

“Yes, the gay one.”  Arthur never regretted leaving the closet more than when he went to the hetero wedding of his hetero brother and got gawked at by all his hetero friends.  At least they could all finally say they met a real life _gay_.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you or nothin’.” American — Arthur was just drunk enough to recoil openly.  "I’m Al.  Uh, the bride’s ex, but don’t tell anyone that.“

"How nice.” One long gulp should erase this conversation from memory…

“Hey, I - I didn’t mean to come off like being gay was bad or anything.  I’m gay.” Arthur just looked at him.  "Well, sort of.  I mean I like guys, but then I like everybody, so there’s that.“

"What you mean to say is that you’re a tart.”

“Uh, no dude, I’m a person.”

The drunken cackling honestly wasn’t intentional, but Arthur found himself incapable of regretting it.  Everyone else was laughing at the idiot in their heads — removing the thin film of politeness would probably garner some sense of respect.  Americans were needlessly blunt, after all.  “I’ll cross my heart and hope you’re bi, then.”

“Yeah, bi.  That’s the word — hey, thanks.”

“You can’t remember your own sexuality?”

“Well when I’m drunk I usually just go gay for the night.  Easier that way, if I’m topping I tend to miss, and girls can get kind of… violent when you do that.”

“Girls,” Arthur stuck his tongue out as if the word had gotten stuck on the tip.  “Who the fuck needs girls.” He hadn’t noticed that the yank paying out (fifty dollars tip, oh dear) and scooting a little closer to him.

“Hey, you wanna come back to my place?”

“Carry me, bi man.”

—

As it turned out, Alfred was funny.  Not only was he funny, he was a good kisser and good fucker and he wasn’t exactly quick to say he was sorry when he needed to, though he still did — and when he got down on one knee two years later, Arthur said yes without thinking about it.

“There’s just no variety with a suit.  You can wear a blue or a green pocket-square, but — where’s the elegance? Where’s the mystique?”

“You know I don’t care if you wear a dress,” Alfred said, and Arthur blanched.  “I know it’s not a weird sex thing.  But you know you want to, and I think you’d be so cute.”

They had already decided to break tradition when Arthur decided to invite four best men on his side — Alfred’s brother would fly in from Canada to be his one.  Arthur paused, carefully staring his fiance down before picking up the phone.  “Yes, tailor? You’re going to need to retake my measurements for a gown.”


End file.
